


Not If I Can Help It

by flapdoodle_noodle



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (kinda?), Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flapdoodle_noodle/pseuds/flapdoodle_noodle
Summary: He first met her when they were five.It had been a normal, boring Thursday when she came into his life. “Class, this is Marinette. She’s new to Gotham, so please help her feel welcome!” Their music teacher clapped her hands as a tiny girl with pigtails and stars in her eyes stepped from behind her.“It’s nice to meet everyone!” she chirped. “I hope we can all be friends!” She declared as she locked eyes with him. He scowled.Not if I can help it, he thought bitterly.He couldn’t help it. They were best friends by the end of the week.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 37
Kudos: 365





	Not If I Can Help It

**Author's Note:**

> Daminette one-shot inspired by Your Lie in April. Enjoy!
> 
> This work is cross-posted from my Tumblr account: @the-flapdoodle-noodle.
> 
> I also added the music here, if anyone would like to listen to it:
> 
> First duet: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hhv-z9wUHyI  
> First piano solo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAHYJnerHDI  
> First competitive duet: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCsB3WtlyaM  
> Finale: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_x4-vB11wmY
> 
> All this music was played in Your Lie in April (in case you didn't watch the anime).

He first met her when they were five.

It had been a normal, boring Thursday when she came into his life. “Class, this is Marinette. She’s new to Gotham, so please help her feel welcome!” Their music teacher clapped her hands as a tiny girl with pigtails and stars in her eyes stepped from behind her.

“It’s nice to meet everyone!” she chirped. “I hope we can all be friends!” She declared as she locked eyes with him. He scowled.

Not if I can help it, he thought bitterly.

He couldn’t help it. They were best friends by the end of the week .

*

They had their first duet together when they were six.

“Wow, Damian! We did amazing!” She swung her bow around dangerously back-and-forth in one hand as they stepped off the theater’s stage, gripping her violin tightly in the other hand.

“Tt,” he grabbed her arm, preventing her from waving the offending object around. “You’re going to take someone’s eye out with that, stupid.”

The pigtailed girl stuck out her tongue. “No I’m not! There’s no way I would let this bow do anything without my permission!” She pointed the sharp tip of the bow at his nose.

“You better not, or else I won’t duet with you again,” he taunted, though there was no heat behind it. She grinned at him before running out of the hall and into her papa’s arms. He sighed, and went to greet his own father, as well as his annoying older brothers.

The two families went out for ice cream to celebrate. He still remembers chasing Marinette around the tables after she made him drop his ice cream cone.

*

When they were nine, Damian won his first piano solo competition.

“I’ll catch up to you!” Marinette declared as they walked out of the lobby of the performance hall. “Just you wait, I’ll wow everyone with my violin skills, just like you did with piano!”

Damian huffed, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be leagues ahead by the time you finally get to the level I’m at right now.”

His best friend crossed her arms, fuming. “Not if I can help it,” she pouted.

A few months later, she won her first local concerto competition.

*

Marinette had her first crush when they were eleven.

“He’s just so… wow,” Marinette sighed dreamily as Adrien Agreste walked by. “I heard he plays piano, maybe I can ask him to do a duet for the upcoming Chopin competition?” she mused. The thought of Marinette performing a duet with Agreste made his heart twinge in pain. Stupid, he thought to himself, She’s bound to play with other people sooner or later.

Marinette squeaked as Agreste waved at her, stumbling and high-fiving the ground with her face. Damian laughed good-naturedly as he helped her up. “First, you’d have to be able to be near him without tripping over yourself,” he teased.

“Shut up!” she hissed at him, face flushed red as she glanced back at the blonde. He ignored the pain in his heart as they walked on.

*

At thirteen, Marinette’s first crush was reciprocated.

“DAMIAN!!!” He jumped at the sound, spinning to face Marinette as tackled him to the ground.

“What??” he asked, concerned. “What’s wrong???”

“Adrien said he liked me back!!! And we’re going to perform in the next competition together!!” She cheered.

Damian’s heart cracked. Not enough to break, but enough to hurt.

“That’s… great!” He gave her a thumbs up, trying to keep the pain and slight feeling of betrayal off his face. She studied him before smiling widely.

“You can go home without me, we’re going to start practicing after school today!” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before running off, leaving him alone in the middle of the school’s empty courtyard.

That turned out to be the last kiss he’d get from her in a while.

*

Adrien Agreste (that son of a bitch) broke Marinette’s heart after a year-long relationship. They were fifteen.

“I- what did I do wrong?!” she screamed, sobbing into his uniform jacket. “We were happy together- why would he cheat on me with Lila of all people?! He knew how she bullied me!”

Damian shushed her. “It’s not your fault,” he assured her, tone serious. She looked up at him, with those beautiful, blue eyes, still filled with tears even after crying for the past five minutes. “It’s not your fault.”

She sniffled as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, as if he were going to disappear if she held him any looser. He hugged her back, just as tight. He wasn’t going anywhere, not without her by his side.

Not if I can help it, he reassured himself.

As they held on to each other, their hearts began to mend, finally bringing broken pieces back together.

*

Now sixteen, damaged hearts repaired, they entered their [first competitive performance](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DhCsB3WtlyaM&t=ZTU2OTM0ZDE1NGE5NDY5NmQ4NTkxY2M1MDZkMGViM2I5YTBjMjJlYix5MElXY081Nw%3D%3D&b=t%3AV9616rP25e8WEJeUcX9pPg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fthe-flapdoodle-noodle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F626182447658385408%2Fnot-if-i-can-help-it&m=1&ts=1597363451) together.

The piece was far from perfect, they made it their own. While Marinette’s unique sense of tempo mixed with Damian’s steady pulse may have seemed unprofessional to a trained ear, it was reminiscent of playful banter that left the audience captivated, wanting to catch every aspect of the performance.

As Damian played the last note, they froze, not moving an inch as silence overtook the recital hall. All they could hear was each other, taking light and slightly anxious breaths under the growing tension of the hall. 

But that tension snapped as a majority of the crowd stood, applauding their stunning performance. _A standing ovation,_ Damian noted with pride as they bowed. 

After walking (albeit shakily) off stage, they made it to the side wing before collapsing, leaning back against the walls for support. Marinette laid her head on Damian’s shoulder, humming contently. 

“We did good, huh?” He smiled down softly at her before answering. 

“No,” he said, before bending down, his face inches from hers. “We did _amazing_.” He closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. 

*

They officially started dating after that. Both still sixteen. 

When they told Marinette’s parents of the news, they were shocked at first, before smirking at each other. 

“We thought you were already dating,” Sabine chuckled as the teens’ faces went red. They cooed some more, as well as teased them for taking so long to get together. Tom even tried to give Damian the shovel talk, but it turned into more of the joke than a threat, as the younger was too familiar with the older man to find him intimidating anymore (he wouldn’t admit it, but _Sabine_ was the one he would be watching for). 

When they told Damian’s family, it was chaos. Money changed hands, objects were thrown at one another, and Dick ended up on the chandelier (which actually wasn’t too surprising; he liked to hang out there sometimes). 

“You couldn’t have done this like last year or something? I really thought I was going to win,” Tim grumbled as he passed fifty dollars to Alfred. 

“This is why you shouldn’t gamble,” Bruce reprimanded them as he watched each of his kids dip into their wallets to pay Alfred. “It’s a bad habit that’ll only cost you.”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred held out his hand. “You have yet to pay me for _your_ bet.”

Everyone went nuts as Bruce handed over not just one, but two hundred-dollar-bills to the butler. 

*

They spent the year together, closer than ever. Just about to turn seventeen.

They would go on picnics, basket stocked with pastries from Tom & Sabine’s Patisserie and other goodies prepared by Alfred. Sometimes they would go to a park, lying side-by-side on a blanket in the grass, letting the sun warm them, Other times they would take one of the Wayne’s many cars and drive to a lookout point, where they were content with holding each other as they stargazed. 

They loved to cuddle. They were always seen together at school: during lunch period, with Marinette tucked under Damian’s arm, or during study hall, when Damian would be leaning against Marinette’s small form. Their other friends would tease them about it.

“Oh, how _romantic,”_ Chloe would coo sarcastically as Jon snickered. Damian normally just flipped them off.

Neither of their families were spared of the fluffy sight; Jason frequently pretended to gag while Dick and Tim chuckled quietly. Tom and Sabine would smile at the sight, and hold each other even closer. Better than Bruce, who would just pinch the bridge of his nose and walk away, muttering something about “needing to uphold a broody image.”

But from what Marinette gathered, Damian just saw this as a way to tell everyone to back off. She didn’t mind. It was cute, and he was comfortable.

*

They were seventeen when Damian entered another solo competition. This time, he would be playing for the world to notice him. 

Marinette wouldn’t be able to see him before he played (her Grandmother was visiting at the time), but she would be there to watch the performance. 

That’s what they had planned.

What they _didn’t_ plan was for a truck, with its driver nodding off at the wheel after an exhausting shift, to run a red light and hit the tail end of Gina’s motorcycle as it crossed the street at full speed, launching both grandmother and granddaughter from the bike in a devastating crash. 

His father’s eyes were dark as he told him the news. 

Gina had died on the scene. Marinette was in critical condition, doctors working tirelessly to keep her heart going. 

Damian’s heart _broke_.

He registered his father asking him if he wanted to step out of the competition. He remembered wanted to tell him _yes, I want to leave, take me to see her, I can’t leave her._ But before he could speak, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Marinette’s would probably respond if she could hear them now.

“ _Skip the competition??”_ the voice repeated incredulously. “ _Damian, your_ future _could be depending on this competition. Worry about me later. You’ll see me again,”_ it reassured him. He hesitated before looking up at his father, a determined expression on his face. 

“I’m still going to perform,” he told the older man, trying to emulate the willpower and determination Marinette had whenever she declared something to him, “Marinette would expect me to.”

*

Damian never really experienced a “case of pre-performance spooks,” as Marinette had dubbed them, but he seemed as if he had them now. Though as he looked at his shaky hands, he wondered if it was it was really the performance that was making him feel anxious. 

Damian slapped his cheeks, focusing as he walked up to the grand piano in the middle of the stage. As he sat down, adjusting the bench to his comfort, he avoided looking out at the audience, already knowing that his beloved wouldn’t be there. 

He raised his arms, hands hovering above the instrument hesitantly. 

_Don’t worry,_ the voice in his head whispered. _I’ve got your back._ As his fingers [hit the first notes](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D_x4-vB11wmY&t=M2QxNTlhZGI0YjNlMTI2OGY3M2EwYjY2ODY5Mjg5MThjZTQ1OWZmNCx5MElXY081Nw%3D%3D&b=t%3AV9616rP25e8WEJeUcX9pPg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fthe-flapdoodle-noodle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F626182447658385408%2Fnot-if-i-can-help-it&m=1&ts=1597363451), his mind opened up, and suddenly he was surrounded by an open blue sky. 

His hands and fingers flew over the keys as he reached the part of the piece where a violinist would enter. _If only Marinette were here,_ he thought to himself. _She loved this piece._

He started slightly as Marinette came into view, clad in her concert attire. The red dress flowed elegantly as she looked at him, eyes sad as he led up to her entrance. When she played her first note, he smiled wistfully, knowing that this would be the last piece they played together. 

He relished in the feeling of her by his side, playing his heart out for the girl in red. _His_ girl. 

But as song began slowed from its light-hearted tone into a solemn melody, Marinette dropped out softly, her turn over. The once-bright sky around them darkened into a midnight blue, the stars coming out for only the two of them to see. Damian couldn’t take his eyes off his partner as he continued playing his part, eyes beginning to water. She gave off an otherworldly glow, bursting into a blinding light as the piece reached its climax. As the notes flew out of the piano, that light began to fade, stealing her from their little world together. 

_Don’t leave me,_ he wanted to scream. _We still have so much to do together. We’ll graduate high school, travel the world together, like you always wanted to do…_ A single tear made its way down his face. _We can do whatever you want. Nothing will be able stop us, not if I can help it._

But as Marinette’s figure disappeared from his sight, his hopes for her to stay were taken alongside her. He caught a small smile and the glisten of a tear on her face as he was brought back to reality. 

His fingers felt heavy as he played the last phrase, hunched over the piano as tears streamed down his face. He didn’t dare look up, lest his family see his expression (though he knew they were probably feeling along the same lines of him, right now). Playing the final note, letting it ring through the air, he turned to stare at the spot where Marinette once stood next to him blankly. As he froze, the audience erupted into applause. 

_A standing ovation,_ he noted absently as he bowed, walking off the stage feeling colder than he’d ever been. 

*

Damian and his family attended Marinette’s funeral that same month. It was winter now, colder than it had ever been before. Marinette would have hated it, but she would’ve used it as an excuse to slip into Damian’s sweatshirt with him in it (not that she wouldn’t have done it without it being so cold). She always disliked cold weather. 

He was withdrawn from both families that day, mourning the loss her and her ever-present warmth. No one commented on it. They were all mourning, too. 

But Damian continued to visit her every week, always on Thursday. His family always poked at him, wanting to know why he went that specific day. After almost two months of their pestering, he snapped. “That’s the day we first met,” he replied weakly. They stopped bothering him after that. 

*

It was late spring of the following year when he visited the apple orchard he and Marinette had found when they explored Gotham. It was peaceful. It was a place only the two of them knew of, where they would both go to get away from the rest of the world, in their own little bubble. 

Upon seeing the apple trees in full bloom, his vision blurred, legs turning to jelly as he fell to his knees. He cried for the first time since Marinette’s final performance. 

_Damian,_ a soothing voice rang through the air. His head snapped up, and his eyes fell on the girl standing a few feet in front of him. He tried to get up, to _move,_ to _reach her,_ but he was frozen in his place. 

Marinette giggled, hands behind her back. “You’ve missed me, huh?” She asked him softly, a look of longing on her face.

Damian’s breath hitched. “Yes,” he choked out. “I’ve missed you a _lot.”_

The pigtailed girl hummed, apple blossoms falling around her. “I miss you too,” she hesitated, “but you have to let me go.” 

“I can’t do that,” Damian shot back instantly. Marinette’s smile wavered for a moment before bouncing back. 

“I know it’s difficult, but _please,_ I just want you to be happy,” she teared, her expression wavering as she watched his reaction. 

“I… can’t let you go,” he began slowly, “but I can try to be happy.” 

“Do you promise?”

“Anything for you, angel.”

Marinette let out a watery chuckle. “Got that part right,” she grinned. As the apple blossoms spun around her, she called out to him. “You won’t forget me, right?” 

Damian stood, finally breaking out of whatever was holding him back. “Never,” he whispered, as he blinked. She was gone. 

“Not if I can help it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, I was crying while I was writing this because I was remembering scenes from You Lie in April... I have sensitive tear ducts don't @ me.


End file.
